They knew beforehand that there were no weapons of mass destruction.

Here is another installment in "what is Nathaniel's blood pressure". This afternoon it was measured by a healthcare professional at 140/82. A little high but nothing to be concerned about. And how, do you ask, did I come by having my blood pressure measured by a healthcare professional? Stitches, that's how. I had cut down some low limbs from a Japanese maple and then I had to break them down into manageable sizes. Japanese maples are sort of brittle compared to their cousins in the maple family, so I was breaking them by hand. There was a sharp edge to one, and when I went to snap it the end snapped onto my ear. I knew I had drawn blood but not until my helper, Adam, had seen it and I saw how big his eyes got did I consider that I really might have injured myself. Then, looking in a mirror, there it was, yup ... stitches.

I cut the skin on the tragus, or the little air foil or flap before the ear canal, or external auditory canal (meatus). Now I have four stitches. I haven't had stitches since I cut my foot as a kid. That was unpleasant. I can't remember whether I had stitches when I put the spade fork through my foot between the big and second toes. I don't think I did. I was digging for worms. That wasn't fun either. That is the extent of my chilhood injuries, other than when Dodie pulled me out of the barbed wire fence when I was learning to ride a bicycle. Thanks again Dodie. I used to see a girl who's brother had the nickname, or nom de guerre, of "laceration Mike", for all of the trauma he inflicted on himself as a child. Nothing quite so extreme for me.

That was essentially the end of my day. After I got repaired we went back to Mukilteo, unloaded the truck, and went home. God did I need some sleep. The doc told me not to get it wet but I carefully washed my hair anyways and took a bath. I couldn't stay smelling like the decomposing greenery in the back of my truck. No way. Maybe the heat hit me. Still, it isn't like Florida. It might be similar now but it isn't the same. Florida bites.

I have a new term in my lexicon. It is intestinal trail. An intestinal trail is a trail which twists and turns as you intestines would after, perhaps, having injested something fouled. Used in a sentence, "the Cougar Mountain trails are at times intestinal." The race humbled me after I posted such a good time the week before. I still beat the folks I run with though.

My blood pressure seems to be normal. I hurt my arm a few weeks ago. I had thought that maybe I had blood poisoning due to the red stripe extending from my armpit to my wrist, so I went to a clinic in Issaquah and before the doc saw me the nurse took my blood pressure. She said, "your blood pressure is 140 over 110, that's high." No shit that is high. No re-check. No "you can't walk out of here without some investigation" or at least "go directly to the hospital NOW", sort of thing. I stuck my arm in a drugstore machine today after work and the readings were normal. So my heart and blood vessels won't give out (soon) after all. The doc said that the pain was due to overuse. When I saw him the stripe was gone. A day or so later it turned the color of a bruise. If anyone out there can fill me in on this phenomenon then please do. From the armpit I think it is the coracobrachialis muscle and at the elbow maybe the supinator. I had been weedeating for half the day. The other half I spent wrestling with a 36" mower. The travails of the working poor.

Here is part of my apartment as blue. It'd be cool if it looked like this all the time. I've been running a lot lately. Last week was the Capital City half, yesterday was the first in the series of Cougar Mountain trail runs and today I think I put in 16 miles. I have to check it out with my map program. More to come.

I have some good news to put down here. I did very well in the Capital City Half Marathon run this morning. I brought my time down from a previous 1:37 something to a 1:33:23. That is four minutes folks. That put me at 11th in my division of 56 people. I was 45 overall. At half way I got a second wind that brought me clear through the finish. What is better is that I think I can be faster the next time.

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14 hours yesterday. We've been mowing the military base in Magnolia and we're going back to finish it today. There were a lot of put-out landscapers yesterday, and so much grass! My regular stops are not getting their attention while we all drop what we are supposed to be doing in order to save the management company's ass on this one. This place has not been mowed in quite a long while. At least it is overtime because I have to work on Saturday to catch up. I also have my bike back. The radiator is flowing well again and the light for the cooling system does not come on anymore.

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Under 40 minutes to the top of Tiger.

A little piece of Memphis.

Chuck and I went through Memphis on our bicycle tour of the south. I still use "y'all" when I can. Chuck went through Graceland but I didn't have the stomach for it. Nothing against Elvis, but I had just learned that the woman I had been seeing back in Northampton was now seeing someone else. It was also the 10th anniversary of his death, so let me google this to find the date,...August 16, 1987. That and the wonderful old lady who opened her home as a bed and breakfast are what stick out for me now. I also remember she brewed her coffee good and strong. After Memphis we crossed Tennessee, going through Nashville, across the Cumberland Plateau, into the Smokies, the Blue Ridge and then swiftly down into Winston-Salem. I picked up my beading habit in Cherokee, North Carolina. I haven't strung beads in a long while. So, that was 18 years ago now. Whew. And what have I done with myself since then? I cooked and now I landscape. It doesn't sound like much. I was hoping to get off the ground with the radiation endeavour but my poor communication skills killed that. Maybe I'll end this ramble here. Thanks for the reminder Sue. 'Night y'all. Aum peace peace peace.

Apparently I totally blew the interview. From the answer I got back from one of the program directors, you should keep your children, the infirm and anyone else away from me because I have no people skills what-so-ever. The answer wasn't that literally, but only because she had to be polite. What kills me is that I know they didn't see nearly the whole of me. I don't interview well. I know that. Sometimes my intensity can come across as a serial killer's does. This doesn't help. First impressions usually don't go well. This first impression has sunk me for this program. "Best of luck in your future endeavors", not "close but try again next year." Not even close enough to be on a waiting list. What also kills me is that I know I would be good at this sort of job/profession/work, whatever you want to call it. They have no idea.

Sonya is writing about her dreams. Mine have included my parents, in separate ones, of course. Mom didn't know she had passed away (though I am certain she does) and I was very aware of my role in helping her along in that stage of her journey. I think that Prudence was there also. (she was the little terrier we had many years ago) This was all set just outside of our neighbors' house. Not a day later I had a dream about Dad. In it he was dying and we were there for his part of that journey. (it didn't actually happen this way) I remember telling him how sorry I was about his hands and his poor circulation. I don't know whether the rejection letter of Friday had anything to do with these macrabre dreams. I don't really see them as macrabre though. It is all part of the whole process. These moments can be more "real" than what we consider our daily activities.

Ya know, I haven't felt this dejected and rejected for quite a long while. And no girlfriend was involved. Amazing. There is a plan out there, or in here somewhere. This turn of events has really upended my boat. What the fuck am I supposed to do now? I spent a year getting good grades and I thought I could be thoughtful, considerate and kind. Nope. I scare sick people.